


The Third Man

by posingasme



Series: The Third Man [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Darkness consumes the world Her Brother made, Dean makes one last desperate decision, and sends Castiel on his final mission. </p><p>Back in a time when Sam Winchester still believes that angels are the good guys, Castiel seeks out him and the woman he loves. </p><p>Castiel's last order, given him by the Righteous Man at the end of days...is to love and protect Sam Winchester and Jessica Moore...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Then

Tears and blood streamed down Dean's face. He could feel none of his wounds. Everything was simply cold, very cold. He stared down in helpless desperation at Sam's body lying broken beneath him. The world was shattering, everywhere, but all he could see was the little boy he had tried so hard to protect, with caked ash and blood all over him, in this enormous, lifeless body. The wind ripped at Dean; embers flew at him. Chaos reigned in this new, dying world. Darkness was claiming them all. 

And let Her. If Sam was gone, truly gone, tossed into the Void, what did the rest of it matter?

He turned to the angel, to the world's final prayer. "Find him," he ordered through a thick, eternal grief. "Find him, and give him the story he should have had."

Castiel gripped Dean's arm briefly, then blinked away. 

As he felt this reality coming apart at its strings, dissolving into nothing, he held his brother tight in a final show of defiance. 

She was all around him, and She was laughing. "It's finally just you and me, Dean," the Deity sighed happily. "Just as I said it would be."

He refused to speak to Her. Instead, he looked into his brother's face and forced a smile, as madness engulfed them. "It's okay, Sammy. It's okay. You're going to get your happy ending. You'll get what you always deserved to have. Cas promised. It's all that matters now..."

They were the last words spoken by any of God's creations, and with them, reality crumbled in on itself...not with a bang, but a whimper. 

***


	2. Before

Sam bent at the neck to touch her forehead with his. It was amazing how well they fit together, considering the height difference. He closed his eyes, and just felt her for a moment, just listened. Their fingers slipped together under the sheets, found their slots where they belonged without even trying.

Effortless. Everything about it was effortless. Where Jessica stopped and he started was blurred.

This woman was his happy ending. There was no doubt in his mind.

Thoughts skittered lazily around them. He knew he should get up. He honestly should never have let himself be talked into a romp and nap at all. But it was impossible to deny her anything when she grinned like that, and he wasn't strong enough to fight his own desires, let alone hers.

_And if she knew you? If she knew anything about you?_

Sam's eyes had slipped closed, but now he frowned up at the ceiling, breaking contact with her sweet face and her warm hand. He pulled his leg out from under hers, and sat up to let the sheets pool into his lap.

He sighed. There wasn't much point in telling the voice to leave him alone. He might hear it in John's baritone, but it was inside Sam's head.

_She doesn't know what we know. You can't love someone you know nothing about._

He squeezed his eyes shut against the words. _Would you have still loved Mom if you found out she was a hunter? Before you knew what goes bump in the night. Would you have loved her if she had sat you down one day and said, John, I'm a hunter from a family of hunters. Would you have felt like everything before that had been a lie?_

_Your mother was the love of my life. We didn't keep things from one another. If she had been a hunter, I would have known. Jessica knows nothing about you. She loves a lie._

Sam cringed.

It always came back to that. Jess was in love with what she thought Sam was.

"Babe?"

The murmur drew his attention, and he forced a smile for her. "Hey," he whispered. "You can sleep. I gotta get back to studying."

She gazed up at him happily. "I love you, Sam."

It burned a little just under his skin. But he nodded. "I'm lucky to have you."

She stretched out and rolled onto her stomach, gripping the pillow with both arms. "Yes, you are," she agreed. She opened an eye again when he pecked her forehead sweetly. "Hey," she teased. "Let a girl sleep."

"Not my fault you left your kissing mark out for me to see."

She pushed her face into the pillow. "It's asleep too," she informed him in a muffled voice. "Come back later."

Sam pouted playfully, and stroked her hair. "Come on. You never let me kiss your mark."

"Because you make a big deal out of it. I hated it all my life."

"And I've loved it all my life." It came out with more intensity than he'd intended, and there was a moment of stillness before she lifted her face to gaze at him in question. "I mean..." He licked his lips and imagined he could still taste her kisses. "I just mean I feel like my whole life before I met you, before I first saw you...None of it matters, right? What I was before you, it doesn't matter. Doesn't exist."

Her pretty eyes watched him with an intelligence that always worried him a little, as if she would one day figure him out, and he would have lost everything. "Of course it matters. What happened to you before makes you who you are now."

"But it...I mean, it isn't who I am now. I'm not who I was."

Jess nodded quietly. "Okay. I'm not who I used to be either. I'm not sure you would have liked me a few years ago."

Sam stared down at her in complete adoration. "I can't believe that."

She sat up too, and shrugged, letting her bare feet hit the floor.

When she stood, Sam's breath stopped. He wondered if he would ever become immune to Jess being casually naked. He hoped not. He hoped every time he saw it, he remembered how grateful he should be.

The woman had a confidence Sam had never had. She was gorgeous, certainly, but not perfect. She had the tiniest, sweetest little imperfections that he worshipped. They were his favorite parts, the parts that reminded him she was real.

He watched her slip into a pair of panties and then her jeans. He was sorry to see her cover her lovely little breasts with a tank top, but was consoled by how cute she looked in it. She tied her hair back without bothering to look in the mirror. He loved that. It was exactly the right kind of messy.

At last, she spoke again. "I really don't think you would have liked the old me. I've grown up a lot in the last couple of years. I guess we all have, right? But some of us needed to more than others. I was a pretty selfish person back in high school, Sam."

"You've said that before. I didn't believe it then, and I still don't," he said stubbornly.

"I appreciate that. But it's true. I like to think I've come a long way since then. When I started volunteering, it wasn't for the right reasons. Somebody told me I'd have a better chance of making it into Stanford with community service on my résumé. So I picked something and did it. And it changed everything. I switched my focus to medicine after spending time in the hospital with all those families. I realized I could do something to help. It was an epiphany for me, changed the way I saw myself."

His eyes followed her as she began straightening the room absently. The idea that his angel wasn't always the beautiful inspiration she was now just didn't fit into his perception of the world.

"You know...Sam, the academic part of all this...It comes easier to us than a lot of people."

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"It does. We're blessed in that way. But I think we have worked pretty hard anyway. And I'm glad we're both choosing the paths we are. You know. You could do corporate law. You'd make a killing after a few years."

Sam smiled at her. "And you could go into private practice."

"Sure. We would be a pretty comfortable couple."

His heart fluttered every time Jessica assumed they would always be together.

"But we aren't doing this to be comfortable. We're doing this because there are people out there who need help. And if we're blessed, we need to spread that blessing among folks who need it more."

Sam reached for her hands, and she moved to sit beside him, tucking a leg underneath her. "Jess? Can I tell you something about me? Something I never told you?" His eyes searched hers with worry.

Jessica smiled at him. "Sam, you couldn't tell me anything that would make me love you less than I do."

His chest ached. He wondered. He wasn't ready for the whole conversation. Some things had to stay hidden. But...

"Sam?"

"My dad and my brother and me...We were homeless for...Well, for as long as I can remember."

Her eyes widened. "Sam!" she breathed. "You...Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

An old, familiar shame filled his stomach, and he wished she wouldn't touch his face like that, like she pitied him. "It's not as big a deal as...I mean, it didn't matter. We did okay. But you know how I freaked out when you wanted me to go to your parents' place for Thanksgiving last year? And how sometimes..." Heat filled his face, and he laughed uncomfortably. "Sometimes I don't know pretty basic stuff about apartment life now that we've moved in together?"

Jessica giggled gently, and put her hand into his hair. "You mean like when we first moved in, and you couldn't figure out where the coin slot for our washing machine was?"

His blush was out of control now. "Yeah. Like that."

"Or when you got too excited, and you bought so many fresh fruits and veggies that three quarters of them went bad before we could eat it all."

He scowled at her. "You don't learn much about shelf-lives of produce when most of your food comes from truck stops."

The lovely eyes looked into his face with affection. "I'm glad you told me, baby. But why now?"

"I just love you," he said simply. "I want you to know I'll always be grateful to have you. And...you should know more about the man who loves you. So you can decide whether you really love him too."

There was no hesitation in her voice. "Sam, I don't know every particular of your life. I want to. There's always been a part of you you've never let me know, and when you're ready, so am I. But I know what I need to know. You're a good man, Sam, and you make me happy. You make me laugh. You make me feel safe. And you love me. Everything else, Sam? I can do for myself. I'm not helpless. I don't need anyone. But you're the companion I want. No matter who you used to be, you're my Sam now."

"What would I do without you?"

The serious Jess was gone in an instant, and the grin he couldn't resist was back. "Crash and burn, probably."

He laughed. "Might still do that if I don't get up and study."

She winked at him. "I'm going to head over to the clinic and see if they need any help for a few hours. Beats the hell out of studying the bones of the human ear."

He watched her throw on a light jacket and step out of the room, and he was left sighing behind her.


	3. Afternoon

Jessica approached the man slowly. The volunteer coordinator had pointed him out as someone who was less hurt than confused, and he wanted to see if Jess could get any information from him. 

She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, expecting him to startle. But he simply looked up at her and smiled. "Hello."

"Hello," she said. "I'm Jessica. I hear you haven't had anything to eat. Can I bring you something?"

The man shook his head. "That's kind, but no. I'm not hungry."

"What's your name?" She settled into the empty chair beside him. 

The man watched her with curiosity. But unlike some of the clinic's clientele, she did not feel as though he were dangerous at all. "I'm Castiel. Cas."

"Cas," she repeated. "Do you have someplace to go?"

He raised his dark brows and looked around them. "Oh. Is this facility closing? Do I need to leave already?"

Her hand reached for his wrist. "No, Cas. You're welcome to stay as long as you need to. We're just wondering where you're from, that's all."

There came a small nod. "Oh. I come from the end of times."

Jess had heard just about everything at this clinic. It served homeless men and women, and many of them had untreated mental illnesses. Part of her job as a volunteer was to try to determine which clients could benefit from the mental health facility up the street. "The end of times. That sounds like a scary place."

Castiel smiled at her with amusement. "Being afraid is hardly helpful in a situation such as that. But I suppose so." His face dropped into a frown then. "I can't remember what I was meant to do. Everything was tearing apart. I was tearing apart. I'm afraid I'm not entirely whole anymore."

There was a spark of understanding in Jessica's mind then. "Cas, were you a soldier?"

"For as long as I can remember," he breathed. He seemed to be looking at something very far away. 

She nodded, and patted his hand. "Okay. A friend of mine can help you fill out some forms to see about VA benefits to help you along."

There was a moment of confusion when the striking blue eyes fixed on her. Then he nodded. "Ah. I did not serve in your military."

That was less simple. "Oh," she sighed. "Okay." But perhaps that was part of the reason for Castiel's uncertainty. "You don't have an accent that I can hear, but English isn't your first language, is it?"

The man gave her a laugh. "Not even close. Perhaps my seventh. They're all blurred in my mind now." 

Her eyes widened. "You speak seven languages?"

He shrugged. "Not very often," he admitted. 

"That's amazing!"

His head tilted to the side as he observed her interest. A slow smile came upon him, and she warmed with it. "It isn't so hard after the first few. I can understand far more than I can speak. In many cases, it was never necessary for me to do more than listen. I like to listen," he added as an afterthought. 

"Where are you from, Cas?"

"Quite far away." But something nearby had drawn away the man's attention. His eyes narrowed. "That woman is in great pain."

Jess looked up in surprise, and followed his gaze to the object of his concern. 

The woman was sitting by herself, clutching her middle. There was untouched food on the table beside her, and a look of anguish on her face. Jess judged her to be about twenty years old. 

Before she could signal to one of the medics, Castiel was up and moving toward her. She followed quickly. "Cas, we'll take care of her. Okay? Don't worry-"

"She suffers," he murmured. "This is a good woman, and she prays for relief."

Before Jess could stop him, Castiel was reaching to touch the woman's forehead with his fingertips. Immediately, her mouth dropped and her eyes cleared of pain. 

"My God," she whimpered. "You are an angel! What did you do?"

Castiel sighed heavily. "You must allow the physicians to monitor you. You nearly miscarried today. Please let someone take care of you."

The woman burst into tears. "Thank you," she moaned. "Thank you so much."

Castiel nodded. "Your child will be all right for now. But you must care for yourself. I sense that isn't easy for you. But it's important."

Jess waved over one of the other volunteers. "Can you have her taken in to be checked by a doctor right away? I think...She must be pregnant."

The other girl nodded, and took the woman's hand. 

When Jess looked up again, Castiel had returned to his former seat as though nothing had transpired. She approached him cautiously. "Cas? What did you do with that woman? Was that some kind of...pressure point thing? I saw her, she was in a lot of pain. You touched her and...and she wasn't."

There came a heavy sigh, and for just a moment, Jess got the impression Castiel was a great deal older than he seemed. "Some humans don't see themselves as worthy of care, until they're responsible for another. It bothers me."

Jess took a deep breath. "Cas? Why are you here?"

He met her eyes again, and his head tipped slightly as he watched her. "You mean here specifically," he decided. "I needed somewhere to be, until I'm back to my full strength. And sadly, I cannot quite recall the mission yet. It's a frustrating thing, to put oneself back together a strand at a time. I suppose it would help if I didn't use my strength to heal others, but that's difficult when you can hear their souls crying out to you, isn't it?" Then Castiel smiled kindly at her. "Is there something I can do for you? Or were you simply checking on me? I don't require anything but time."

She was staring. "No, I...I don't need..."

The eyes narrowed. "Are you also in pain?"

"No," she said quickly. "No, I'm fine. Just...Excuse me for a minute."

"Of course."

She blinked at him, then stumbled from the clinic into the fresh air. Jess gulped in a breath, then another. The phone was ringing before she realized she had dialed. 

"Hey. What's up?"

"Sam?"

"You okay?"

Jess swallowed, then cleared her throat. "Sam, do you trust me? My judgement, I mean?"

There was a pause, but it was not the same as hesitation. "Of course, babe. What's going on?"

"I'd like to bring a friend home tonight. He needs a place to stay."

"Sure. He need anything else?"

Her heart filled with love for this man. Without any request for explanation, Sam was ready to open his home to a stranger, and help however he needed. "I don't know yet. Just a space on the couch for now."

"I can do better than that. I'll dig out the space that's supposed to be a guest room, and get the pullout ready."

She giggled. "That would take you all week. We've got so much crap in that room."

"Gotta organize it sometime. Guy needs space to crash? We should give him actual space to crash. It's my turn to cook, so I'll just add more water to the soup."

Her laugh burst out. It never failed to amuse her just how useless Sam was in the kitchen. "Pork fried rice for me, Chef Winchester."

"Your buddy got a preference?"

"I don't know."

"Everybody likes lo mein. I'll get a few things he can choose from."

"I love you so much."

He sounded surprised. "I love you too. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Tired, maybe."

"What's his name?"

She stared back at the entrance to the free clinic and shelter. "Cas. His name is Cas."


	4. Evening

It was all over Jessica's face when she opened the door. It was almost endearing. Sam's girl was completely intrigued by the man behind her.

He supposed that should bother him. But instead he thought the excitement in her eyes was lovely. He looked forward to meeting the man who could put that look on her face.

So it should not have surprised him when his own breath caught in his throat.

Cas, she had said. Cas. Seemed like such a simple name for a man with eyes like that.

He managed to put out his hand. "I'm Sam. Come on in."

He knew Jessica was smirking at him. He was going to get teased about this later.

The man's hand reached for his, and there was suddenly a hesitation. "Sam?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'm Sam."

His eyes narrowed into slits, and the way his nose crinkled made Sam smile.

Jess watched with amusement. "Cas? Remember, I told you about Sam?"

"Yes. Forgive me. You seemed strangely familiar...For a moment, you seemed like an old friend of mine, a dear friend." He shook himself and took hold of Sam's hand. "Sam, the boy who opens his heart and home to a stranger. I'm Castiel." His left hand closed over their clasped rights, and Sam felt himself sigh at the warmth.

Jessica giggled. "Right?" she whispered in her way past him.

Sam flushed hot. "Uh, come in," he said again. "Jess said you needed a landing pad, and we have plenty of room. Do you...have anything with you?"

Castiel stepped in and looked around. "Just what I have on me."

"Okay. Uh, I've got some clothes that might-I mean, they'll be a little long, but...Let me..." Sam stumbled backward toward his own bedroom.

Jessica smirked. "Excuse us for just a moment, Cas. Make yourself at home." She grabbed Sam's elbow and closed the door behind them.

"Okay. Who is that?"

"If I tell you something crazy, will you believe me?"

He frowned at her.

"I met him at the clinic."

"I figured."

"Sam, I think he's autistic, for one thing. But he's got to be some kind of savant. You know? I mean, he interacted with some young woman there, and he... Well, I can't figure out exactly what happened, but...He's something special, Sam. I know it."

A person being referenced as a "something" was uncomfortably nostalgic, but Sam nodded. "And the fact that he's hot?"

It was Jessica's turn to blush, and it was too cute for Sam to not enjoy. "That was just extra."

Sam laughed quietly. "Right."

She winked at him. "He's your type too, you know."

He dipped his head to hide behind his hair. "I noticed."

Jessica reached up and kissed him softly. "This guy just needs some help, and we’re going to give him that. But if it turned out that we both enjoyed his company, and he enjoyed us...That would be nice, wouldn't it? Maybe he isn't the one. I don't know. But it's still something we want, right?"

He felt his whole face heating now. "Yeah," he whispered. "I mean, if-if it's still what you-what you-"

She cut him off with another kiss. "Sam, it was my idea to begin with."

"I know, but...but it's what you want, isn't it? Not just what you think I want? Jess, I'm so completely, totally content with you. I'm in love with you. I would always be happy-"

"Shh.” Jess reached up to touch his cheek with her hand. “Shh. Sam, I know. It isn’t about that. This is part of what makes us so perfect for one another, right? Just another thing that makes us the perfect fit.”

He looked at her worriedly. “Jess, I never want to do anything that puts us at risk. You and me, that’s always got to come before everything else.”

“Of course, Sam. But this is part of us. We have a lot to give. And something about this man...Sam, I don’t know how to explain it. I just really want to get to know him. Maybe just as a friend. He’s a little weird.”

 

He chuckled again, relief filling him from head to foot. “Yeah. Autistic, you said.”

She shrugged. “If he’s not, I’ll switch to an English major. But he's also funny and sweet. I don’t know. There’s something. You see it too, right? Something?”

Sam nodded, and kissed the top of Jessica’s head. “Yeah. Okay. You are an excellent judge of character. You picked me.”

She treated him to her charismatic grin. 

Castiel was quiet during dinner, and Sam caught him staring at him with curiosity several times. He ate only a bowl of white rice, and seemed to forget periodically that he should be eating that. Sam found himself watching the dexterity in the man’s hands, as he wielded the chopsticks with grace. For some reason, he was reminded of Dean, and the way he had always handled his blade as if it were an extension of his hand. Dean had always preferred his gun-the 1911 had become his favorite-but the way he had flipped his butterfly knife had always been hypnotic for Sam. Sometimes he had done it while reading in bed, just to keep his hands busy, and Sam could have watched it for hours. This man seemed to possess the same intriguingly dexterous hands.

“Sam,” Castiel said at last, tasting the name on his tongue as if it seemed strange to him. He put his bowl on the table gently. “Thank you. I appreciate the hospitality. What am I expected to do at this point?”

He smiled. He couldn't put his finger on what was so endearing about this man. “You're not expected to do anything. But if you'd like a shower and to try on those clothes I left out for you, you're welcome to. Then...if you're not tired...I'm going to pretend to study while I watch a movie. You could join me.”

“You're a scholar.”

Jessica gave a soft snort. “That's the polite term for geek. Yes. Sam's a scholar.”

He laughed. “Like you're not a med nerd.”

“A med…”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm studying to be a doctor, Cas.”

The handsome face broke into a smile. “A healer.”

“Just like you, Cas.”

Sam glanced at her. 

“Yes. The role suits you, Jessica.”

“I hope so.”

Sam watched as Castiel reached to touch her hand with a tenderness that pleased her. “It does. You're a kind person.” He turned to Sam then. “I think I will do just as you suggested. I'll be back soon. Thank you.”

“Take your time.” He turned to Jess as soon as they were alone again. “He's strange.”

She laughed. “Yeah. But pretty sure he's harmless.”

“So he said he was a soldier, but never really said where he was from, did he?”

“I don't think he wants to talk about it. We should respect that.”

“Of course.” He smiled. “He's obviously smart. Didn't talk much at first, but he managed to give us the entire history of rice by the end of the meal.”

Her laugh was bright. “And made it all sound fascinating too. I've never thought of rice as interesting. Or history, for that matter. He should be a professor.”

Sam chewed on his lip. “Yeah. He's probably old enough to be a professor. Hard to tell exactly how old.”

“Does that…”

He shrugged in response to her unasked question. “He's what? Thirty? Not quite? I don't think it's a big deal. Do you?”

“No,” she said with relief. “No, I think it's fine.” This time when she laughed, Sam thought he could hear a nervous titter to it. “Listen to us. Have we ever talked about anyone like this before? Makes me feel like we're taking advantage of some guy.”

Sam laughed too. “No. He's here because he needs a place to stay. That's all. If he turns into a friend, great. If not, at least we gave him a comfortable place for a while, till he could get on his feet.”

She grinned and stood on her toes to kiss him. “I like that about us,” she teased. 

“So do I.”


	5. End

Castiel felt the water pour down his back. It wasn't something he needed, but Hannah's experience with hot showers had inspired him to try them again, not as a means of getting clean, but as a way of simply enjoying sensation. Sometimes he forgot to do that. He was grateful to Hannah for reminding him.

Hannah. Gone now, but then so were all the others. Castiel was still piecing himself back together, but he could remember that.

And he remembered Sam.

Blue eyes closed in anguish. Water fell around him and on him, and if he were human, it might have poured from him in sobs.

Sam. His Sam was gone. The one he had loved for years, the one he owed so much. The one Dean had sent him here to save. As if the universe itself were not out to hurt Sam Winchester, one little, broken angel was here to save him.

"Give him the story he could have had."

"But, Dean, he won't know me if I go back so far."

Dean had nodded. "Exactly. And you take Jimmy Novak so the other you can't have him."

He flinched. "I had made my peace with Jimmy before. I'm not sure..."

"That Jimmy is up in Heaven with his wife right now, Cas, about to be pulled apart by Amara. She's not stopping here, man, you know that. She's after everything God created. You, me, Novak, everything. So this time, instead of just telling him he's going to serve Heaven, tell him the truth. Tell him all of it. Tell Novak exactly what's at stake here. Then, when he says yes-and he will, because he did before, and because it's for his family-let him be reaped to Heaven, so if something happens to you, the other you can't gain his permission."

"When it comes time to raise you from Perdition-"

Dean shook his head. "I ain't going to Hell for anybody but my brother. Lot of folks I'd fight and die for. But I ain't kissing a demon for anybody but Sam. So you go back and you save my little brother, and there won't be any going to Hell. If I don't end up in Hell, there's no broken first seal. If Sam's got you, knowing what you know now, there will be no broken last seal. No Ruby. No Apocalypse. No reason for the God Squad to get their feathers in our business. No Pit for Sam. No raising him soulless. No civil war in Heaven. No need to find Purgatory. No Leviathans. No tablets. No trials. Just that one quick thing you gotta take care of, and you go make my brother happy when he's twenty-one. Can you do it?"

"I will. You're certain this is the course you want to set in motion, Dean? Anything could happen."

"Yeah. That's what I'm counting on."

Sam had tromped down the bunker steps at a fast clip. "Guys? We gotta get out now. We got like a half hour, at the rate things are...If Amara-"

"Sam, stop."

Castiel watched Dean address his brother, and then he closed his own eyes in pain.

"Dean-"

"Sammy, I said stop."

And there it was. The quiet command in the deathly calm tone Sam trusted with his life. Had the elder hunter shouted or pleaded, reactions might have varied. But not this. Dean had made the call, and it was up to Castiel and Sam to carry it out.

"Sammy, nine lives are up, man. We're done. And...and that's just how it's gotta be. That's how it should have been from the start. No Heaven, no Hell, no second chances on Earth, no freaking Purgatory. We're done."

"Dean, we can't...give up! We don't ever give up!"

The desperation in Sam's voice was like an angel blade slicing through Castiel's grace.

"We can't let Amara end everything, man. And anywhere I go, She'll know. She knows now, every move I make. So I gotta stay till the last. But you. You got a job to do, and..." Dean's voice caught, and he let out a heavy breath.

Castiel knew what Dean wasn't able to get out. _And you ain't coming back from it, Sammy_.

"Dean, what are you saying? If this is the end, the real end? I'm gonna be by your side! I'm gonna be fighting this thing-"

The gruff voice cut him off again. "There's no fighting this, Sam. There's only preventing it. And so that's what you..."

Castiel stepped forward as Dean's words failed. He licked his lips carefully. "Kali has come forward."

Sam's eyes grew wide. "What the hell?"

"She came to me, since none in Heaven would accept her help. She means to destroy that which brought the Darkness upon us. So I indicated to her that this would never have happened if Abaddon and Metatron had never been permitted to gain leadership of the realms. She is prepared for an attack on each."

"Whoa." Sam put his hand up. "Wait. Abaddon is dead, and Metatron is human."

"Sending you back, McFly," Dean said grimly. "It's all we can do now. Kali will take out Abaddon. And you. You're killing Metatron before we meet him. If we can prevent the fall of the halos, they'll be united against whatever comes next."

"This is a sketchy plan, man! What about-"

"Sam, we are out of options. Rowena is sending you back. You'll have about ten minutes to do whatever you're gonna do. Then Cas is pulling you back. And we got to do it now. Right now. I can feel Her. She's coming. Understand?"

The younger hunter shrugged. "I guess so. I just don't believe Metatron is the priority right now."

 _He isn't, Sam,_ Cas wanted to say. _You are_.

"Look. Abaddon goes poof, I don't take the Mark, right? But a whole lot of other crap goes down if I ain't juiced up, if you got an angel wearing you, and if Cas is on failing grace. We gotta make sure that if this works, we ain't just handing the world over to Metatron. You can't take him once he's playing God. But back when he's hiding among his books? Sam, we gotta fix what we can. And this is our last chance to do it. I'll keep Amara distracted long enough for you and Kali to slip away. Because if Amara senses what we're trying to do, She'll snuff us all out before we can."

Sam nodded. "Okay. Might've liked the last kill to have been Crowley, but stabbing Metatron in the face isn't a bad way to end. Cas, you're pulling me back, you put me right where Dean needs me, you understand? "

He swallowed and tried to smile. "Of course, Sam."

Sam scowled. "Rowena. Don't like her being my transport."

"She's necessary, Sam. I will have strength enough to pull you back. But...I will have my own work to do once I've done that."

"We're doing this, we better do it now."

Castiel nodded. "The witch is preparing now. She's in the dungeon, of course."

"Of course. Probably the safest place in the world right now."

Dean snorted softly. "Why you think she was so eager to be on our team? Sam? Take care of yourself, okay?"

Sam looked at his brother, and he frowned. "We're gonna kick this in the ass, Dean. Just like we always do. I'll be back in ten, with blood on my blade."

"I know you will."

Sam smacked his brother's arm, and smiled at Castiel. "Don't be late," he teased. He squeezed Castiel's arm too and disappeared around the corner toward Rowena's new habitat.

"All of Creation ends tonight, Dean," Castiel sighed as he stared after his hunter. "Why give him hope?"

Dean's face looked old, as if it had suddenly been reminded of the forty extra years his soul had aged in Hell. "One of us should have some. Signal Kali. It's got to be done all at once. I'll go out and call to Amara, and gain us the time we need."

"Yes, Dean. Please..." He was unsure what to say. He wanted to tell the man to have a care for himself. But they were the last beacon of light in a world being ripped into the frayed strings of its creation, and they probably had just minutes before they were lost as well.

Dean looked back at him from his walk up the stairs. "Cas? Find my dad. Everything falls apart if you don't. It's the one element of the plan that could knock this whole shitstorm back into motion. Find John Winchester. Tell him and his older boy where to find the Colt and where to find Azazel. What they do after that doesn't matter. Saving people, hunting things, that's what they should do. But they have to take out Yellow Eyes before he comes back for Sam."

"Yes, Dean," he said again.

Now, years later-or years before-Castiel stood in the stream of water, and closed his eyes. His mission was clearer now, except that he could not quite remember for what reason he had to find John and Dean Winchester. But, like everything else, that part of the puzzle would come. He just had to let his grace do its work and sew him back together, piece by piece.

He was sent back to save Sam Winchester, he knew that much, to protect him and keep him safe in his wings. He was sent back to love Sam Winchester. And that was the easiest command he had ever received.


	6. Night

When Castiel emerged from the guest room, Sam couldn't help the soft smile that came over him.

"They are, as you said, a bit long," Castiel sighed.

The dark hair was still drying, but was combed out, presumably with items from the toiletries bag Sam had left out for him. The man was swimming in Sam's old hoodie from his senior year of high school. He couldn't even remember the school whose mascot was on the front, but he decided it suited Castiel perfectly. The Denver East High School Angels would be proud. The pants were too long, of course, but Castiel's bare toes peeked out, and he didn't seem uncomfortable.

Aside from Jessica's Smurf night shirt, this had to be the cutest thing Sam had ever seen.

He tried to cover his smirk. "Hey, Cas. I'm starting up Star Wars. You in?"

"I am...in," he responded absently, as he discovered the pockets of the hoodie and explored them.

Sam laughed as quietly as he could. "Then get comfortable. Rebel force is on its way."

Castiel looked up from the fascinating pockets. "You've always admired the rebels, haven't you, Sam?"

It was a strange thing to say, but Sam reminded himself that English was not the man's first language, so it wasn't a surprise that things might come out oddly now and then. He wished he knew where Castiel was from, but he agreed with Jess that they shouldn't push the issue.

Castiel was watching him with curiosity now.

He smiled. "Sure. Who doesn't love a good rebel? It's safe and easy to follow orders and do what you're told. And it's not about going against a society just to be different. It's better to be normal. A real rebel is someone who fights because he believes in something. He believes those who are in control are wrong. He does it to protect innocent people, and to give the silent a voice."

"To protect those who cannot and would not protect themselves."

Something in the intensity of Castiel's words made Sam think he may have touched on a tender area. "Exactly," he said softly.

Castiel's eyes lowered. "That was always the mission. For me, at least. Often, I did more harm than good. But I always used those words as my guide. They were the last true commandment to my people."

Sam watched him sigh, and he reached across the space between them to grip Castiel's arm. "Cas, if you ever want to talk about...anything, just...Jess and I are here to listen and to help any way we can."

There was a quiet pause, then Castiel's smile returned. "You're a good man, Sam Winchester. No matter what happens in your future, that is something which never changes."

He squeezed again, then sat back. Castiel sat too, and Sam was surprised to find that he chose the space right next to Sam. He felt a flush of warmth come over him. This guy was definitely odd. But it was the kind of odd Sam liked. "So," he said finally, as he queued the movie. "You have a favorite character?"

"Perhaps two," Castiel remarked, and the enthusiasm in his voice sounded as though he had waited a very long time for someone to ask this question. "The loyalty of the Wookie is inspiring."

Sam nodded. "Everybody loves Chewbacca."

"But I also find Lando to be a character of depth. He, like Han, has had a bit of a sordid, ignoble existence, but he does the right thing in the end, in spite of the danger, and he does it with an admirable flair, doesn't he?"

Sam laughed. "Can't argue with that analysis."

Castiel nodded. "His character reminds me of a brother, with whom I served for many years. Balthazar."

Sam was going to look up these names when he was alone. He had to know where Castiel came from.

"He, too, was a rebel of renown. We parted badly, but I've wished frequently that circumstances had been different. I cherished his friendship." Then Castiel looked at Sam again, and the younger man realized how close their faces were. "Sam, do you think the small droid is simply following his programming, or do you suspect it has an element of free will?"

By the time the credits rolled, Sam had fallen entirely in love with this strange man. Jessica simply laughed when he told her.


	7. Morning

Sunday was generally a lazy day for Sam. Sometimes, Jessica dragged him to St. Thomas for the 10:30 Mass, but more often, he teased her he would rather go to the noon Latin service with the Gregorian chants, and she usually left him alone. He went sometimes, and he always lit a candle for his mother. He prayed for his father and Dean nightly, but even he would admit it felt more powerful in the cathedral. So if he hadn't gotten a goofy postcard or drunken voicemail from his brother in too long, he accepted Jessica's nudge. He really did prefer the Latin one. It helped him practice.

It occurred to him that perhaps Castiel would like to attend church someplace. When he stepped out of the bedroom just after eight the next morning, he found Castiel sitting on the couch in the adorably large hoodie, flipping through a high school yearbook Jess kept around.

He smiled. "Hey, man. You sleep okay?"

Castiel looked up and blinked. "I'm...rested, thank you."

Sam started to sit in the opposite chair, then remembered the way Castiel had sat beside him the night before, and edged his way closer through the movie. He took his place next to the man cautiously. "You find Jessica yet?"

"Oh." Castiel looked down at the book. "I thought your photograph might be among those commemorated here."

Sam scratched at the back of his neck. "Uh, no. I don't think there's any yearbook out there that's got Sam Winchester in it," he laughed. "Just as well too. I was an awkward kid."

"I doubt that," Castiel replied with confidence, turning a page. "Why are there no photos of you, Sam?"

"Oh, uh, my family moved around a lot, and anyway my brother and me always skipped out on photo day, even when we were real little." He sighed. "I remember once my dad got notified that they wanted to use a photo of me winning some stupid geography contest, and he hit the roof. Only time I ever remember my dad going up to the school in person, unless he was registering us. Man, he was pissed."

"Because he was trying to protect you. Keep you hidden." Castiel nodded and looked back down at the book. "Prudent."

Sam stared at him, and a smile crept across his face. On the very rare occasions that he chose to share something about his father, most friends seemed to express immediate dislike for the man. Castiel, it seemed, was more open-minded. It was a little comforting. There was no one to whom he could talk about everything, of course. But perhaps some stories about his father, which might come across to some people as evidence of how overbearing and heavy-handed the man was, might seem to Castiel to be evidence that John had done what he did out of love.

He would never say that he didn't think the way they had been raised was messed up. They weren't sons so much as soldiers. But even the things John clearly got wrong, he did because he thought he was doing the right thing. Sam had never doubted that John loved them, as well as he could with his broken heart and grief-soaked anger. There was no manual on how to raise sons to survive in a world teeming with supernatural monsters, witches and...and whatever had killed Mary. So agreeing with John might not always be in the realm of possibility. But loving him and accepting that he loved them was not so difficult.

Not that he would ever get the chance to tell John that. The pigheaded jackass.

"There's Jessica," Castiel said softly with eyes full of fondness. "She's lovely. About...seventeen? Reminds me of Claire when..." A flash of pain crossed Castiel's face then. He sighed. "Well, she's lovely."

"Who is Claire?" Sam asked gently.

"The daughter of a good friend of mine. Both of them are dead now. But your Jessica reminds me of her. Warrior eyes," he said, and the smile returned, smaller now.

He was quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat. "I don't know if...Jess sometimes goes to church on Sundays. I don't always. But if you would like to go, I'd be happy to take you, in her car. We'll drop her off at St. Thomas and I'll find you someplace, if you're, like, Methodist or something. Jess said she thought you were pretty new to town, might not know where to go."

A strange smile greeted him. "And yet here I am. I'm grateful for Jessica's generosity, and your hospitality. I'm more than aware that most people do not open their arms to men who have no identification or money or means. I'm certain you would be able to ensure Jessica's safety, and your own, if I turned out to be a threat. But the way you opened yourselves to a lonely stranger is remarkable, and appreciated with...with all my heart."

Sam thought he saw a wince, but the smile replaced it too quickly for him to be certain. "We like you, Cas. A lot."

Perhaps the first truly happy expression filled Castiel's features. "But...I haven't done anything for you yet!" he protested in awe.

Sam laughed. "Cas, you don't have to do anything. You're our guest. Our friend. I can help you get some resources, and if you want to stay with us a while, until you figure stuff out, Jess and I would like that." He took a deep breath and plunged in. "She thinks you're really attractive, you know."

Castiel's eyebrows raised. "Why?"

His laugh was turning anxious. "Why? Because you're attractive."

"But that doesn't seem to bother you," he assessed with a tilting head and narrowing eyes.

Sam shrugged. He could feel a flush heating his throat and cheeks. "No, I...I don't mind that she...Anyway, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

There was a soft smile on Castiel's face. "Most humans pair, or try to. You...You and Jessica..."

Sam got the strange feeling that the man's eyes were rummaging around in his mind.

"You're paired, but you're not..." At last, a look of pure adoration came over him. "Of course. Sam Winchester has too much heart for just one. And I suspect the only woman who could be deserving of him would be the same. Enough love to go around. I'm not surprised."

It shocked Sam to feel tears sting at the backs of his eyes. He shook his head in amazement. "How do you understand so completely when I didn't even say anything? And it doesn't...seem strange to you?"

"That you of all people have too much love to give? No, Sam. That doesn't surprise me at all," he said again. "I once loved a man I fought beside for many years, through the most trying of times, but I never could have been enough for him either. And it has been said of me that too much heart has always been my problem. It hurt me the first time I learned that my friends thought that. But I've come to see it as an attribute and not a failing." He huffed sadly. "Perhaps the reason I could never pair with the man I loved before is that we were never meant to be just a pair. We needed a Jessica. That possibility never..."

Sam's heart was pounding. He didn't know this man! His mind was screaming to be alert to danger, and he felt the desire to test this man with holy water, salt, silver, iron, anything to see if he was real. But another desire compelled him instead.

When their lips touched, he heard the soft whimper that seemed to come from deep inside Castiel. It pushed pleasure pumping through Sam's whole body. There was nothing in the world like being wanted, like filling a need for someone. If Sam could create a perfect scenario, it might not include his own desires at all. Instead, he wanted to be the one giving Jessica and Castiel everything their hearts and bodies needed. He wanted to pull that sound from them in any way he could get it.

Sam wanted to be the angel of relief and pleasure for his lovers. No matter what they needed, he could be that. His greatest pleasure came from being what someone else ached for.

This man clearly ached for him. "Sam," he breathed into his kiss, sending a wave of heat through Sam's entire body.

***

Jessica didn't smell coffee. She always teased Sam that the one advantage to him being a restless morning person was that the coffee was always ready by the time she got up. Not this morning.

She slid her arms into her robe, and opened the door to the living room.

The scene stunned her into immobility. Sam was kissing Castiel on the couch. The older man's hand was gripping Sam's arm as if he would lose him otherwise, and Sam had his hands on Castiel's face, gentle as they always were with her.

Jessica grinned, and stepped back into the room as silently as she had emerged from it. She sat on the bed, and pulled Sam's pillow into a hug. She couldn't help the giggle. "Okay," she whispered to herself. "That is really hot." She lay back on the bed, and sighed happily. "I think we finally found the right one."


	8. Family Time

Sam was still in a dizzy state from falling so hard for Jessica. The added flotation of getting to know Castiel was entirely too distracting. He tapped his pencil in class. He daydreamed through his shift at the library. He forgot to eat lunch. He walked out of the apartment without his wallet.

And for the first time in months, he badly wanted to call Dean.

It was hard not having his brother to share things with. He had no clue how the man would react to the idea that Sam and Jessica were opening their hearts and relationship to Castiel. But he had to believe Dean would be happy for him.

Sam was happy for himself. He came home from Spanish to find Jessica teaching Castiel to bake cookies, and his heart filled heavy with the knowledge that this was his family. The only part missing was Dean in the periphery.

The first time he saw Jessica lean in for a kiss from Castiel, it made his stomach do odd things. Instinct was trying to tell him this was akin to losing her. But his heart patted down that feeling, and celebrated the moment. He loved the way Castiel seemed to lean toward her as she pulled away. And he loved the way she giggled.

This was his family. It was whole now. He wished Dean could meet them.

Castiel often went out alone and returned with something small to contribute. Today, he had come back with a grin, and Sam had laughed. "What do you have, Cas?" he asked fondly.

Jessica looked up from her books.

"I have a job," he said breathlessly.

Sam caught him up in his arms and held him. "Congratulations, Cas!" he laughed. Jessica began to clap happily from her seat.

But when he stepped back, Castiel was watching him with worried eyes. "I...Sam, I had to...They asked me for a permanent address. I..."

Jessica was smiling when he glanced at her. He nodded at her, and turned back to Castiel's fretting. "Cas, you are welcome to stay with us as long as you feel comfortable here. We like having you here. We're friends. We're...we're more than that. We're becoming more. As long as that's what you still want, it's what we want too. And if you'd just like to be our friend, that's fine too. You can stay or go as you like. We want to be your permanent address. But that's up to you."

Castiel reached up and touched Sam's face.

A warmth flowed through him, a calm that he had rarely known. He sighed contentedly.

"You mean that," Castiel whispered. "You really do mean that."

"Of course we do," Jessica said then. She stood and approached, taking hold of their hands in each of hers. "Cas, when I first met you? I knew right away that you were special."

He shrugged. "I wasn't trying to be," he said, almost apologetic in his tone.

Jessica laughed. The sound of it swept Sam's heart in a wave of love for her. "I imagine you can't help it, Cas. The way you talked to that woman, I could have sworn...Anyway, I already wanted to help you. I already wanted to be your friend. But after seeing you help her, I realized I wanted you to be my friend too. And I knew Sam would love you as soon as you met."

Castiel looked at her with adoration. "I don't know how you could tell I was searching for Sam, when I didn't know it myself."

Jessica squeezed their hands and laughed again. "Everybody's searching for a Sam, Cas. Most people don't get one. You and me? We're the lucky ones."

This was his family.


	9. Memorial

Castiel was grinning a little crookedly. He knew what it felt to be human. It felt small in so many ways. But it also felt free. Living as a human again, with the advantage of his angel abilities, was nice this time around. For one thing, no one was currently hunting him. 

He missed Dean. And oddly, he missed Sam too. The Sam he had known before had been tougher, more jaded, more confident in some ways, and more insecure in others. 

This Sam was more social. It was interesting to see the way he interacted with Jessica and their friends. This was not the man whose throat closed up every time a woman approached him while Dean was not near enough. This was not the man who stumbled over his words and blushed when someone spoke to him in a bar. This was not the man who put on his persona as part of his fed suit, and lost his ability to be social as soon as the deception was over. This was more like the Sam he had originally met, but there was far more mischief in his eyes. This Sam knew pain and guilt and horror, but he had yet to face grief and vengeance. He had yet to learn about the blood in his veins. 

If Castiel did what he came to do, there would never be a need for this Sam to become that other Sam, and as much as he truly wanted that for his friend, a part of him regretted that the world would never know the haunted hero that Sam had been. That was the Sam he had loved for so long, the Sam his friend Dean had died for, the one both of the older creatures had always looked to for strength and wisdom. 

Not that they often listened. 

Castiel and Dean were so much alike in that way. Self-righteous. Arrogant. Impulsive. They were warriors who could plan out a strategy like no chess player or wartime general, and yet most of the time, they made everything up as they went, even when Sam was suggesting they slow down to consider other options, other points of view. Sam could get that way too, certainly. The vengeance upon Lilith, and the removal of the...

Castiel's smile slipped into a slight frown as he stared up at the dark ceiling. He sat up. "The...Mark..." he mumbled to himself. Uncertainty bubbled up inside him. "How could I have forgotten the Mark?"

But he had forgotten. It came to him when he reached for it, but why in his Father's name should he have to reach for that? They had lived that nightmare for nearly two entire Earth seasons! How could he forget?

Realization washed over him in a cold wave. "Because it never happened," he breathed. 

He took a long breath and began to tremble. 

What else had he lost? What other information had unraveled from his mind now that the timeline had altered? Were there important things, things that were now gone from his reach? 

Time is fluid. As an angel, he should not have had to be reminded of that, he scolded himself harshly. 

"You have already lost memories, because those memories now never form. Here you have been sitting and waiting for your memories to return to you! Stupid angel!" He threw his wings out in an invisible flush of fury. "You've lost time waiting for your mission to become clearer, and instead, you'll lose it altogether, and fail yet another Sam and Dean!" 

So while Jessica and Sam slept in the next room, peaceful and happy in their ignorance, Castiel blinked away from what had become his bedroom. His brother-in-arms, his general, his mentor, his friend, Dean had told him what to do, and he had lost it. Love Sam and give him his happy ending; those were the only words of the command he could remember clearly. Find John Winchester and his older boy. For what purpose? 

Dean had told him what to do before. He would go to Dean now, and perhaps they could work out together what it was they had to do to protect Sam. 

***

Dean was about to head for New Orleans. Between the monster hurricane and the flooding, there were signs of the supernatural popping up all over John's radar. And John was rarely wrong. 

"Just check it out. Probably a few spirits got kicked up in the storm. You can handle that. Anything else, you call me. Or if it gets too hot, lay low. I can be there in two days if you need me."

He grinned at his father. "Dad, I got this. We both covered the stories, pre-texted over the phone. They're vengeful spirits pissed off about the levy. The worst part is going to be figuring out who and where they're buried."

"The worst part will be that this isn't the worst thing going on in New Orleans right now." John sighed. "I should come with you."

"No, sir. This one's mine. You got that game in California. Phantom hitcher or whatever. Whichever of us finishes up first, we just head toward the other till we find another job."

John nodded wearily, and ran a hand down his face. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. You got enough salt?"

"Dad. I've been doing this almost two decades. Of course I got the damn salt rounds."

"You call the minute you hit the town. It's gonna be a madhouse down there. That time I put in after the war, we did some relief and rescue stuff after earthquakes. It's hard work. Tensions are high. Nobody's gonna want to talk to you."

Dean's smile shone with confidence. "I'll turn on the charm. No worries. I'll get the job done."

John watched him for a moment, then smiled too, and patted Dean's cheek with a rough hand. "Good boy. Let's get some rest. Lives depend on us being fit for duty."

"Yes, sir." Dean zipped his bag and tossed it onto a chair for an easy exit the next morning at four thirty. 

The bag made a startled sound it had never made before. 

As one animal, fast as lightning, both Winchester men had their guns out and trained on the figure in the room. 

"Who are you?" John demanded in a voice disciplined for calm but laced with fury. "What are you?"

Dean gave the rest of the room a glance, dropped to look under the bed, and kicked the bathroom and closet doors open to search. "Think he's alone, sir," he reported in a low voice. 

The man before them was a little older than Dean, perhaps, but the blue eyes that stared at him seemed far more ancient. 

"What are you?" John snapped again. 

He put his hands up slowly. "I am a friend. Of Sam's and Dean's."

"I never saw you before," Dean growled. 

"Not before, but later. You have sent me back in time to speak with you and your father about Sam's safety."

John's eyes became small slits. "What do you know about my boys?"

The man smiled and placed Dean's bag on the floor quietly. "I'm Cas, John Winchester. And I know that your sons grow to become the heroes your world needs. They are good men, and the strongest of hunters. They will defeat Lucifer himself, and they will bring Heaven and Hell down upon themselves for their heroism. I am the guardian who chose to stay at their side when they chose to...to ice the Devil."

"Dad? Am I shooting this guy, or what?"

John sighed heavily. "No. I want to hear what this guardian has to tell us."


	10. Again

The thing that claimed to be an angel but looked like John Constantine sat quietly in the corner of the room. He had submitted to the handcuffs with patience that concerned Dean. He never took his eyes off the figure, and the hunter was certain those cuffs were useless if he wanted to be free of them. The lack of concern on the guy's face told him that plainly.

"Start with what you really are," John was saying.

Castiel nodded. "I am an angel, fallen from the gates of Heaven. I fell because I supported Sam and Dean Winchester when they averted the Apocalypse."

"The Apocalypse. The apocalypse Apocalypse?"

The creature smiled at him fondly. "Dean. Eloquent as ever. Yes, my friend. You and your brother refused to play the roles as they were laid out for you, and you prevented the devastation of your world. I was won over by your..." He huffed a tiny laugh. "By your eloquence," he finished. "You dared preach to an angel of the Lord, and I dared listen to you. You are a force of nature, Dean Winchester."

The young hunter stared at him in horror. He glanced at John. "What do you think?"

His father was watching the interaction between them quietly. "I think it believes what it's saying," he murmured.

Dean's eyes widened. "What? You-you think this thing came back in time? You think I allied with a freaking monster?"

"I didn't say that. I said it believes it."

Castiel sighed. "John Winchester, I can prove I mean you no harm. You've taken a significant injury to your left knee. I can heal it for you."

Dean turned to stare at his father. "You hurt?"

"Nothing I can't handle," the older man growled.

The creature shook his head. "I've no doubt of your capacity for pain and for courage. Your sons speak of you as though they believe you are nearly immortal. But you and I know you're not, and I would be honored to heal a fellow warrior, who means so much to my friends."

John was watching him with a sharp gaze.

"No, sir!" Dean blurted. "Don't you let that thing touch you! It's a trick, Dad!"

But the hunter silenced him with a flick of his dark eyes. "You really a friend of my boys?"

"I am."

"You know what happened to their mama?"

A frown crossed the creature's face, and there was a light of recognition in his eyes. "Mary Winchester. She perished in a fire when the demon Azazel came for Sam in his nursery at six months old."

Dean heard his father suck in a breath. "Demon," he hissed.

Castiel nodded very slowly. "That...that is why I'm here." He did not seem sure of that himself, but he pushed forward anyway. "That happened in this timeline. Forgive my confusion. I'm finding some details difficult to-"

"You a demon too?"

Dean looked at his father with fear etched across his face. "Dad..."

"I am not. Demons are vermin. Unclean. Evil without remorse. And Azazel has targeted your family specifically. He is a lord of Hell."

John was sneering now. He was quiet, but Dean felt the fury seething from him. It made him tremble inside. "I'm not going after that son of a bitch till I know how to kill it."

Dean frowned. "Dad, that exorcism-"

"The demon that took my wife isn't getting no exorcism, son. We're putting him down."

A tiny knot of terror sank into Dean's stomach. "Wait. If you know who it is, why are you telling us?"

Castiel watched him. "Because you told me to. In a little over ten years, Dean Winchester is known by every creature in Heaven and Hell, and throughout the gray realm of Purgatory. He and his brother are the greatest hunters that ever lived. And he is my friend. He's given me my last command, and I would die to see it through."

John's eyes narrowed, assessing, but Dean shook his head. "No," he muttered angrily. He raised his gun again to aim it at Castiel's chest. "No. Dad, this is...this is bullshit! Nothing he's said has made any sense!"

Blue eyes stared at him. "Why?"

John watched the creature with interest.

His whole mouth was dry, and he was breathing too shallowly. "Because...because it is! Sam ain't even hunting anymore!"

Castiel smiled sadly. "Yes. Well, what he wants and what the forces of Heaven and Hell want for him are diametrically opposed. Sam will be pulled back into this life, and he will be the hero no one else can be, and he will suffer unspeakably because of it. As will you, my friend, and your father too." He allowed that statement to sink in, then continued. "That is what came to pass in my time. Dean, you sent me back to do what can be done. I haven't always done the right thing, but I have always done what I can. You entrusted me with your last command, my last command, and it was to save your brother. I remember this much now; you told me to find John Winchester and his older son and give them the location of Azazel and the weapon you used to kill him before. I have the location of the Colt."

Dean frowned in confusion, but John jolted as though he had been shocked. "The Colt? _The_ Colt?"

Castiel sighed. "Perhaps that is where you get your eloquence, Dean," he said dryly. "Yes. Samuel Colt created a gun which has been passed down-"

"They say it can kill anything."

"Nearly. It will not, for instance, kill Lucifer. Though that would have been good to know seven years ago. But it will, and has, killed Azazel. And I suggest you use it before the Devil's Gate is broken open and Lucifer's army is set upon the world. Dean told me a hunter called Daniel is in possession of the Colt. A vampire hunter. But you must hurry. The world depends upon it, ten years from now. And perhaps as importantly, Dean, your brother depends upon it. As everything turned to Darkness and dust around us, you had time for one last order to a fallen angel, and it was to save Sam." He smiled with a deep weariness and sadness. "I don't know if you even truly cared in the end that saving Sam would save the world. It will. But I think you and your brother had sacrificed so much that in the end, you just wanted to see your brother happy and safe."

Dean's head was spinning, and he felt sick. This had to be a trick. Somehow, this monster-or whatever it was-had learned enough about the Winchester family to trick them. It wasn't true, none of it. There was no such thing as angels, and even more than that, there was no such world as that which knew Dean Winchester as a hero, as a leader. It was too much to be asked to believe. There was no way that Dean could ever be what this thing said he was. He was no hero. He was a dropout, with six bucks to his name. A pale shadow of his father. A grunt next to his genius kid brother. A blunt object, not some leader who gave commands to creatures that traveled through time to carry out his orders. He was a good hunter. His father could trust him to follow orders he gave. That was all he was. Without Sam? Without John? He had nothing. He was nothing.

But when he looked at his father, the man was smiling.

Dean stared at him. "Dad?"

John held out his hand and gestured toward the handcuffs.

Castiel smiled back and let them fall to the floor.

Dean swallowed hard.

His father chuckled softly. "Angels, huh? About time we found some good guys."

The creature sighed in relief.

Dean was shaking his head. "What, you believe him?"

John put his hand on his son's shaking hands, and lowered the weapon. "Dean, he just proved he knows you."

"How?" He was shouting now, but he couldn't help it.

John's eyes were filled with affection and pride in a way Dean could not remember ever seeing before, except perhaps the first time his father had taken him shooting, when he had mastered every target. It frightened him even more than standing before this creature with a lowered weapon.

"Dad?" he breathed again.

John reached out to grasp Castiel's hand. "At the end of the world, all he wants is that kid brother of his to be safe? Sounds like the Dean I know."

Castiel smiled and nodded, closing his hands over John's. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.


	11. Soon

It had been so long since he had received a call from Dean that Sam didn't recognize the number. He didn't feel like answering, but he always had to consider that every unknown caller could be his brother needing his help. Just because Dean had never called him for help, that didn't mean he never would. He would never forgive himself if he ignored a strange number, and found out Dean's life had depended on Sam looking up some Latin or lore during an emergency. 

So as much as he might have liked to roll over and silence the phone till morning, he answered it anyway. "Hello?" he mumbled. 

"Sammy?"

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up ramrod straight. "Dean?"

"Yeah. We gotta talk. You alone?"

Sam clawed his hand through his hair and hurried from the bedroom. "Yeah, sure, of course. You in trouble? What time zone are you in?" He realized he was shaking. Helpless. Useless! If Dean were in trouble, what could he do?

"What? I-I don't remember-Just shut up a minute. Listen. Dad's on a hunting trip. And he's not going to be home for a few days."

"Okay." He made himself breathe deeply. "So?"

"So he's hunting the thing that killed Mom."

Sam felt everything go cold, and he lowered himself to the couch. 

"You there?"

"He's...he's always hunting the thing that killed Mom."

"Yeah, but now we know what we're after. A yellow-eyed demon, called Azazel. And...Sammy, I'm heading your way. Dad's tracking the son of a bitch, but I'm coming for you. Because we...we got some information that makes us think..."

"Dean?"

"We think it's coming for you, Sammy. We think...we think it was always coming for you."

Sam's breathing was becoming shallow. But he nodded into the empty room. "A demon. Okay. Holy water, Latin."

"I called Bobby, and I got some protective sigils for you. And Dad's going to kill the thing, okay?"

Sam shook his head. "You can't kill a demon, Dean!" 

His brother's voice was chilling. "Watch us. That son of a bitch killed my mom and is after my kid brother. I will tear apart the world to find it, and Dad isn't letting it slink off to Hell. We're killing it, Sammy. You got my word on that."

"Why-why's it looking for me?"

There was a pause, then Dean cleared his throat. "It's a long story, dude. I'll fill you in when I get there. But you gotta watch your back till then. You hear me?"

"Do I...Dean, do I run?"

Another pause. "No, Sammy. Stay where you are. If you gotta run, go, but I think you better stay there till I come for you. We got no reason to think it's coming soon. Just...load up, you understand? Salt, holy water, the whole nine. You got supplies? Shells?"

He swallowed hard. He stared at the closed bedroom doors behind which Jessica and Castiel each slept. He looked from one to the other, and a searing agony slashed his heart. "I...I'll be fine. Just gotta get organized."

"Sam?"

"I said I'll be fine. Just...hurry."

Dean hung up. He never said goodbye. When they were kids, it used to drive Sam crazy when he spoke to his father or brother on the phone, because they never said goodbye. Every time, Sam thought, it could be their last conversation. Why wouldn't they just say goodbye? 

But now he knew. They didn't want to say goodbye exactly because it acknowledged that it could be their last conversation. 

"Hurry," he whispered again. "I've got family to protect now."


	12. Right Now

Sam didn't know why he chose to talk to Castiel first. Maybe because he hadn't known him as long. Maybe because he had been in the military. Maybe because he was more afraid of how Jess would react. Regardless of why, Sam found himself knocking softly for Castiel instead of waking Jess.

The man opened the door still dressed. It was a stab to the heart how he smiled at Sam with trust in his eyes, the way his whole handsome face softened upon seeing Sam.

_They trust me._

The words slashed through his mind in blood red.

_They trust me, and I'm putting them in danger._

"Cas?" he whimpered.

Concern came over those sweet blue eyes now. "Sam, what is it? What do you need?"

He opened his mouth, but he couldn't make himself speak.

"Sam? How can I help you?"

Castiel reached for him, and Sam felt as though he should push away the gesture. He had brought danger to this beautiful man. He could not accept comfort from him. But he couldn't help himself. He leaned into the embrace, and closed his eyes tightly.

"Can you tell me anything?"

Sam let himself be led into the room, to sit on the bed beside Castiel. He let Castiel touch his face and kiss him gently, and he wished with all his heart that he was there to be held and kissed, to make love to him. He wished he wasn't there to ruin everything.

"Sam? I want to help you."

"Cas," he forced out, "I have a friend. Brady. Good friend of mine and Jessica's. He's on his way over, and...and you two will go to stay at his apartment for a little bit. After about three..." He gasped through a sob and made himself continue. "After about three days, you two can come back, and I'll be gone and...and you two..." Anger at his own tears, his own weakness, gave him the strength to finish. "You and Jess can take care of one another the way I know you can. You can make her happy, and...and God knows she can make you happy."

Castiel frowned at him. "I'm confused. You're leaving?"

Sam laughed humorlessly, and tears spilled down his cheeks. "Well, that's the advantage of being a triple, Castiel. With me gone, you two are still...still..."

"Incomplete," Castiel finished for him carefully. "Sam, if I've done something that makes you angry or-"

"No!" Sam cupped his face in his large hands and pressed their foreheads together. "No, no. Cas, you're wonderful. You're..." He huffed another laugh and spilled more tears. "You're the best thing to happen to me and Jess since each other. And I'm so grateful you came into our lives. Especially now."

The man pushed him gently to allow him to look into his eyes. "Sam, you say especially now, but I don't understand. What is now? Just hours ago, I thought you were fine!"

"Especially now, because I have to go, and I'm glad you'll be here for Jess. You'll do that, right?"

Castiel was frowning deeply, but he nodded. "Yes. I like Jess. I...I think I may love Jess. But, Sam, are we not a set of three? Did I somehow misunderstand?"

"Cas, I'm going to tell you something because you deserve the truth, and it doesn't actually matter that you won't believe me. That you'll think I'm crazy."

He sat back.

"Cas, I'm what's called a hunter. From a family of hunters. We hunt monsters. Ghosts. And...demons."

Castiel's head tilted and a slow smile came over him.

He flinched. Being a freak was bad enough. Seeing a man he had fallen for laughing at him was just painful. "I know. Crazy. But it's true."

"Yes, Sam. I know."

He raised his gaze to stare. "You what?"

"I know that you're a hunter. You're a Winchester. It's your...family business."

His lips parted, and he stood clumsily off the bed. He found himself reaching for a weapon that wasn't there, a long-buried reflex now shocked awake. "You-you know?"

"Yes, Sam. I know."

His heart was breaking, his head screaming. "Why do you know? Who are you, Castiel? A hunter? A monster? A..." Tears of betrayal flowed down unchecked. "A demon?" he finished hoarsely.

"An angel," Castiel said in a quiet tone.

"A...an angel? How can..."

Castiel lifted himself to stand, and the lights flickered ominously around then. Sam gaped at the shadows along the wall behind him. "I'm an angel."

"Wings," Sam breathed. He shook his head. "An angel? A real angel? Not some trick?"

Then there came a powerful light that shone blue, then became bright white, from Castiel's whole form, culminating in his eyes. "Sam, you need never fear me. I am your friend. And I will not hurt you. My purpose is to love and protect you and Jessica Moore. It is my final mission, and the one I cherish and dedicate myself to with all my heart. I was sent to keep you safe, and, if I can, to make you happy."

"Sent," Sam croaked. "Sent by who?"

The smile seemed sad somehow. "Sent by your brother."


	13. And Now

The boys were in Castiel's room. Jess smiled to herself. "So that's why you're up so early," she whispered. "Well, good. I may as well get breakfast ready."

It was only five, and it was rare for Sam or her to be up so early. But when he had left, the bed got cold, and she was rested well enough. Besides, she had one of her occasional pancake cravings nagging at her, and she wanted to see if she had what she needed to make them.

So when a knock came at the door, she frowned and tightened her robe. "Who's here so early?" she wondered.

A glance out the peep hole revealed their guest, and she smiled softly, and opened the door.

"Ty, what are you doing here? Are you all right?"

Tyson Brady was a handsome man. Before meeting Sam, Jessica might have considered him for a time. But in the past several months, something had changed in him. He had grown sarcastic, callous. Sam said he had experimented with drugs, and that his grades were flagging. It was a shame. So much potential was being lost. But Jess had always hoped Brady would come around, and she knew Sam wanted that too. They were still friends, after all.

Brady smiled at her with that wolfish grin that didn't have so much bite behind it a few years ago. "Heya, Jess. Cold this morning, huh?"

She shrugged. "A little."

His grin spread, and for an instant, she could have sworn his eyes flashed dark. "I'm here to warm you up."

***

Sam shook his head. "I don't understand, but I guess...I guess if Dean sent you...And you're an angel, right? I mean...you're one of the good guys."

Castiel smiled at him and placed a hand over his cheek. "I'm one of the ones who loves you," he said, and Sam wondered if that was confirming or correcting his own statement.

"I'm going to need coffee if we're going to do this." He reached out a hand to Castiel, and felt the warmth flow through him when Castiel took it in his. "Come on."

As soon as they walked into the kitchen, he felt Castiel stiffen beside him.

He looked for what had startled him, and shook his head. "Cas, that's my friend Br-"

Horror erupted around him instantly. His friend Brady stepped back from where he had been standing strangely close to Jessica, and a sort of hiss came from him. Then, as Sam watched, his eyes flicked and became dark black.

"Shit!" Sam cried out, dropping back into an instinctive fighting stance. His heart was pounding.

"Sam?" Jessica called, and the fear in her voice ripped his heart out.

Brady's face was twisting into a snarl. "Angel," he hissed, and Sam could hear fear in that too.

"What the hell are you?" Sam demanded. He judged his distance to Jessica, wondered how fast this thing was, if he could put himself between them in time, and every calculation came out the same...If Brady leapt at Jessica, there was no way Sam could get to her in time.

It was Castiel's deep voice which responded. "Demon," he spat like profanity.

Brad began to laugh. It was a sickening sound. "I was in the negotiations myself, halo. My true name is on that contract scroll. So I know the rules. Heaven keeps its paws off the Winchesters until after the first seal cracks. Then the games begin. You know the rules."

Sam turned to stare at Castiel. "Cas? What...what is he...?"

The angel looked livid. "Was that the deal?" He growled, taking a step toward the demon. "We just stand back and let you pull your strings until these boys break into the right sized pieces? Not anymore."

Brady stepped backward in Jessica's direction cautiously. "Who are you, halo? Whose orders are you following?"

Sam watched as the angel stood taller and let his chest inflate with what looked like intense pride. "I'm under the orders of Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man. And he sent me with a message."

Sam watched fury and terror fill the demon.

"All deals are off. Sam Winchester and everyone he loves are now under my protection."

The Brady demon hissed in frustration. "Smite me if you dare. But those I serve? They're coming. And you're just one little twisted angel, my friend. I see how shredded your wings are, the way that grace of yours doesn't vibrate off any Host. You're alone. A minor stumble in an ages-old plan. In fact, I'm thinking you're not even at full smiting strength, are you, halo? I think my plans to fry this pretty thing a la Azazel, and get Sammy back on track, get this party started, are still my best option. And I don't think you can do a thing about it. I'll let the Horseman deal with you when they come riding into town, lead by a Boy King full of glorious hate, awaiting his place as the vessel of our Lord."

"Demons never stop talking," Castiel groaned.

But Sam could see that he was not moving closer to Brady, not approaching the monster in the apartment. It hit him like a truck, and he gasped with it. Brady was right. Castiel was not at full strength, whatever that was. Sam had heard what Brady had said, and he hadn't understood most of it, but he had gotten the memo about this thing hurting Jessica loud and clear. His eyes flicked to her, standing backed against the kitchen wall, watching in silent horror. Sam would not reach her in time. Castiel seemed hesitant to risk it. And for all his talk about protecting Sam, maybe angels weren't fighters anyway.

It didn't matter, because now Brady was raising his arm in Jessica's direction.

"No!" Sam shouted, and he and Castiel moved like one animal to dive into the creature. But Brady swiped at them, throwing Sam against the back wall with a crack, and blowing Castiel back with the same force. It wasn't enough to knock Castiel down, but it prevented his approach, and it caused a silver blade Sam had not even known Castiel was holding to fly from his hand and skitter across the floor.

Brady was cackling. "Stupid fucking angels! I've been battling your kind since Dawn, and not a one of you morons have ever kept your blades anywhere but that same place! I mean, come on! You're so predictable! You're all supposed to be these amazing warriors, but if you can't smite me? You're useless! I'm the handler of the Horsemen, you stupid feathered ass! You think you're dealing with some low-ranked shit? So fucking predictable-"

Suddenly, Brady's horrible, laughing voice became a gurgle, and his eyes widened with disbelief. Sam stared at what looked like a strange and terrible electrocution, lasting about three seconds, before the invisible force holding him and Castiel at bay released them both, and Brady's body slumped lifeless to the floor.

There was silence for a moment, then the hunter and his guardian angel turned synchronously to stare wide-eyed at the petite blond in a lavender bathrobe, whose hand was still wrapped around the hilt of Castiel's silver dagger, which was lodged into the back of the demon's neck.

"He didn't predict that," she sniffed in disgust.

Sam had never been so in love in his life.


	14. Dawn

Nothing came before killing this demon. Nothing. Not pride, not safety. Not life, not death. This demon had destroyed what was good in his life. For that, John Winchester would destroy it.

The church was hallowed ground, but according to his phone call to Bobby Singer, that only mattered to very low-ranked demons or spirits. Bobby had begun the conversation by listing off the reasons John was never supposed to call him again, and was stunned into silence by John apologizing for everything they had ever disagreed about. John used the silence to explain the situation.

"This is for the boys, Bobby. I want you in on it. Dean's heading for Sam now. And I got Daniel to give me the Colt. I just want someone there to put my guts back in if I lose the element of surprise. So are you in?"

Bobby had sighed heavily. "Thing's coming for Sam?"

"We think that's who it was after the night it killed Mary. Please, Singer. You're a damn good hunter, and the only one that loves my boys like I do." It had hurt to say it. It had cut him at his deepest level. But it was true, and killing this demon came before pride.

Bobby walked into the church to see the priest grinning at a petite blond wrapped in denim and a smirk. They both turned to frown at the plaid-clad man in the baseball cap approaching them. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Father Cristo?"

The blond flinched, and the priest's eyes glowed a nasty yellow. He snarled at Bobby, and raised a hand to toss him back against the altar. "Who are you?" he roared.

"Let me kill him, Father!" the demon in the girl suit hissed.

"No. I want to know who-"

Bobby began to laugh. "Nice yellow eyes," he snickered. "Black looks good on you too, missy."

She sneered at him. "What are you laughing about, you old coot?"

Bobby grinned at her. "John Winchester is standing behind you."

The first shot dropped the girl with a flash of light. The yellow-eyed demon whirled around in horror. "Winchester!" he cried, just before another shot rang out, echoing around the church. The bullet lodged into Azazel's forehead, and with another flash, he was gone too.

John approached the bodies lying on the floor. "That was for my wife, you son of a bitch."

Bobby stared at him. "Guess the gun works."

John looked up, his eyes blank and cold. Then he took a breath and smiled. He handed the Colt to his friend. "Take her. Figure out what makes her tick. And find someone to make a thousand more like her."

Bobby chuckled as he looked it over. "I imagine that's impossible."

"Maybe. But I stole it from Elkin, so you should probably get it back to him. He'll shoot me if he sees me again."

They stared at one another for a long minute, then burst into laughter and tears. "It's over, John. If you're sure this was him, it's finally over."

John nodded. "It was him. I could feel it when he looked at me. That's the bastard that killed my boys' mama. Come on. I got a journal to finish."

John would never stop hunting. There were other boys' mamas being threatened by monsters and demons. But now he believed in angels too, and something about that gave him hope. No matter what his sons chose to do, John was a hunter. There were always more evil things out there that needed to be put down. But when one of them finally took out John Winchester, he would die knowing he had avenged his wife, and his boys were being guarded by an angel.


	15. Right Frigging Now

It was as though Sam were swimming through a dream. Words floated to him periodically, but mostly, he just stared.

Castiel was kneeling over the body on the kitchen floor, and he gently took Jessica's hand from the dagger's hilt. Then the angel was pointing at the wound, and asking Jessica something. Sam tried to focus.

"I'm pre-med, Cas. If for some reason I couldn't kill him, I at least wanted to paralyze him. I know where to cut a spine so something can't walk again."

Castiel was chuckling to himself softly. He nodded. "You are incredible, Jess," he said then, and took the girl in his arms.

Sam snapped to attention when he realized she was shaking. He hurried to them and added his own warmth to the embrace. "Jess, I'm so, so sorry!"

Her face peeked out of Castiel's arm at him. "Sam, what do we do with him?"

The angel sighed and stepped back. He looked down at the body again in disgust. "I'll remove it," he murmured. He took hold of his dagger and yanked it from the dead demon, then proceeded to wipe it onto the demon's sleeve. Then he took a breath and waved his hand over the scene. The body and its mess and smell blinked away, but Castiel stumbled under the exertion, and Sam and Jess each grabbed hold of his arms to steady him.

"Come on, Cas," he said. "Come sit."

A grateful smile flashed his way, and Castiel let himself be moved to the living room couch. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Jessica watched him. "Cas? What was all that? What are you? And was he really a...a demon? And why was he trying to hurt me?"

Sam flinched.

Castiel glanced at him, but addressed Jessica's questions. "I am an angel, Jessica Moore. A very tired, wounded fallen angel, sent back from the end of times to protect you and Sam."

She was silent.

"That thing was not your friend Brady. I don't know if you ever had a friend Brady. Brady has been dead for a while. The thing possessing his body was a demon, and an old and powerful one. It is-was-the demon tasked with the arrangements for each of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Why he was also sent to harm you, I...I can't seem to remember. He talked of setting Sam on his path..."

Sam could see pain in Castiel's eyes, and he dropped to his knees beside him. "Cas? Cas, how can I help you? What do you need? Are you hurt? You said you were wounded..."

A weary smile played on Castiel's face, and he turned it on Jessica. "Is it any wonder we love him?"

In spite of everything, Jessica gave a tiny laugh. "He's Sam," she said, as though that explained it all.

"He is, isn't he?" Castiel sighed. He gazed at the hunter with devotion. "Sam Winchester. The boy who would save the world."

And with that, the angel slumped into unconsciousness, and his two humans were left to look at each other helplessly, and sigh.

***

Dean had driven all night, and he was exhausted, but he took a moment to give the apartment building a once-over. He only buzzed Sam's door after he was certain there was no suspicious activity going on around them. Then he grabbed his bag, threw an extra sawed-off salt gun into it, and was at Sam's door in no time.

"Sammy?" he called, while banging on the door. "Sammy, open up!"

When the door did open, it was by Sam, but behind him was a gorgeous treat in a lavender bathrobe.

"Oh, hello," he grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes. He grabbed hold of his brother's shoulder and yanked him into the room.

"Sam?" the girl cried out.

Dean stared at her, then took a step back. "Sammy?" he barked out.

Sam glanced between them and seemed to realize they were both armed. "Whoa. Wait. Dean, this is my girlfriend. Jess. Jess, this is my brother Dean."

The woman bit into her lip. She gripped the slender silver blade like a lifeline. If she hadn't looked so scared, Dean would call it the hottest thing he had seen since Lisa Braeden's loft.

Dean turned his gun around and handed it to Sam, then put his hands up to show they were empty. Not that he was actually disarmed. Dean was never disarmed completely. But the gesture went a long way toward helping the cute little warrior relax.

"Girlfriend, huh? You are way out of my brother's league."

Both of them glowered at him, but at least Jessica lowered her blade.

"Sammy-"

"It's Sam," he sighed irritably.

The hands went up again. "Okay. Whatever. Look, I don't need to know any bedtime details, but you mind telling me why your girlfriend is armed and ready to put a frankly beautiful blade in my chest?"

"Spine," Sam said with a hint of pride in his voice.

Dean blinked at him. "What?"

Sam took hold of Dean's bag. "Here. Sit. I'll get you a drink and a sandwich. You got some screwed up timing, you know that?"

Now Dean frowned at him. "Why?"

The story came out, but by bit, and Dean's stomach churned as he realized he could have come just in time to find Sam and his girlfriend pinned to the ceiling in flames. When the story concluded with Jessica's contribution, Dean leapt to his feet and hugged her far too tightly.

"Uh, Dean? Can't breathe."

"Sorry," he muttered, and backed away. "Just...thank you. For saving you and looking out for my pain in the ass little brother."

Sam's eyes were filling with tears, but Dean pretended not to notice them, let alone his own.

Jessica smiled at him and shrugged. "I'm pre-med. It's what I do," she said. "Saving people, curing things. That's my business."

Dean looked back at Sam to find him smiling at him. "This one," he said, pointing at Jessica. "This one."

Sam grinned.

"And I'm not the only one." Jessica aimed this at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, no. She's not. I left someone out of the story, because I didn't want you to freak out. Look, I know what this is going to sound like. But have a little faith, okay?"

Dean snorted, but he shrugged at him.

He sighed. "There's a man...Not a man. A creature."

Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Dean, he's an angel."

He felt his muscles relax, and he let out a breath. "Oh. You mean Castiel."

Sam blinked once, then jutted his glare forward in confusion. "What? You-you know him?"

"Yeah. I...sent him. Or whatever. Ordered him to go protect your ass." Dean wasn't very clear on the details. "Pretty sure."

"Pretty sure?" Sam threw his hands in the air. "Pretty sure? Considering the circumstances, I'm going to need you to do better than pretty sure!"

Dean took a breath and gave his brother a weak shrug. "Okay. Really pretty sure."

Sam was staring at him, but he had no chance to say anything else about it, because a deep voice called from the darkened living room.

"Dean?"

Jessica hurried to the couch. "Cas, are you all right?"

Dean's sharp eyes caught the intimate way the man gripped her hand. He took a breath. "That you, Castiel?"

"Dean?" the voice called again.

He stepped cautiously toward the figure on the couch. "What?"

The thing that looked like a man smiled at him. "Dean," he sighed happily. "You made it."

Dean looked up at Sam, and sighed. He sat on the coffee table to look at the incapacitated angel. "What's wrong with you?"

"Just expended for the time being. I was wounded and drained when I first arrived in this time, and traveling to speak to you and your father took more energy than I thought it would."

Green eyes softened. "Well, you should know it was worth it." He looked hard into Sam's eyes as he spoke. "Dad found him. About an hour ago, the thing that killed my mom bit it. Dad killed the son of a bitch. Just wish I could have seen it."

Sam stared at him, and new tears welled in his eyes. Jessica frowned and put her arm around him, without letting go of Castiel's hand. "It's dead? And Dad's...Dad's okay?"

Dean laughed, and realized tears were slipping past his own defenses. "Yeah. Unless he and Bobby are drowning in their celebratory Johnny Walker, they're both great!"

"Dad and Uncle Bobby?"

Castiel smiled then. "Ah. Bobby Singer. He is a good man. It would be a pleasure to see him again." He looked back at Dean. "As it is to see you again, old friend. It is amazing how just a tenth of a century changes a human."

It took Dean a moment to do the calculations in his head. It had been a long drive. "Wait. Okay, so I'm only thirty-six when the world ends?"

"Approximately. I never remember if it is necessary to add a year to your lifespan to account for your time in Purgatory, not to mention Hell. And the time spent as a demon hardly counts, since..." Castiel stopped then as he realized all three humans were staring at him with open mouths. He cleared his throat. "Yes," he tried again. "Roughly thirty-six."

It was Jess who spoke then. "But...you said Sam would save the world."

"Yes. But this is after that."

Dean looked up at Sam. "You promised me liquor."

The younger man nodded, stunned. "I meant coffee, but yeah. Liquor's good."

"Liquor's good."


	16. Then Again...

"Castiel, I'm gonna call you Cas."

"You always call me Cas."

"Right, but now I'm going to."

"Yes, Dean."

Sam shook his head. "Dean, don't start."

"I'm not starting. Starting what?"

"Your face. You've got your lecture face on."

Dean's hand wandered over his face. When he seemed to find everything in order, he shrugged. "You're stupid."

"You're stupid," Sam shot back. Then he giggled. "And short."

Dean tossed a pillow at his head, but Sam didn't seem to notice. "Sammy, I'm going to call you Sammy."

"It's Sam."

"It's whatever the hell I say it is, you brat. Sammy, this isn't going to work."

"Here we go," Sam cried in exasperation, letting his arms and legs drop limp in his chair, and rolling his eyes dramatically.

Jessica smiled.

"Look, it's just not! I mean a hot girl with you and an angel. I can't count high enough to make up the number of things that ain't gonna work with that."

"Dude, give it a rest! It's working fine!"

Castiel was far less drunk than the others, but he had succumbed to a tipsiness that Jess found adorable. "Tell me, Dean. Do you find the number of people in the relationship to be the concern, the supposed genders of those people, or it is the species of those people?"

Dean threw his hands in the air. "All of it! All of it isn't going to work! Three people who aren't all humans are going to live together? It's just...It's a sitcom waiting to happen."

"Our relationship is not situationally comedic in the way you might expect, Dean. I love Jess. And I love Sam. That is, I've loved Sam a very long time. The other Sam. Who was this one, but whom this one will never be."

Dean stared at him. "I'm getting a headache."

"You've likely consumed too much alcohol."

"I've consumed too much stupid."

Castiel glared at him.

"So Sam and Jess are together. You and Jess are together. And you and Sam are together."

Jess took Sam's glass from him as he began gesticulating with it. He did not seem to notice this either. "See? I knew I couldn't tell you this stuff!"

"Whoa! Settle down, Sasquatch. I don't care who you're screwing. But you're talking about more than that, and I think it's some kind of crazy. Besides, you saw what that thing tried to do today! You gonna continue to put Jess in danger?"

Jess looked up. "Excuse me. I'm right here, and I speak for myself."

Dean put his hands up. "No offense, lady, but one demon kill does not a hunter make!"

"She's officially killed more demons than you," Sam pointed out.

Dean surprised them all by conceding the point. "Okay. But everybody knows hunters can't have families! Show me where that's ever worked!"

Sam was quiet then. Jessica frowned at him, but he lowered his eyes.

"Exactly," Dean spat out. "It sucks, little brother, but-"

"Our lives suck," Sam mumbled.

Dean nodded once as if that had been his point.

Castiel glanced at Jess. "They will go on this way for hours or until one passes out. Would you like to rest while you wait? Nothing is likely to be accomplished while they are like this. They may anger one another, and one is quite likely to hit the other or cry, but no decisions will be made until they are sober."

Jess tried to hold in a laugh at the faces the brothers were giving the angel. "I think I'll stay and observe, thanks. I'm learning a lot."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "I suppose you should see them at their most idiotic."

Dean glared. "Enough of this bullshit about how well you know us! You don't know us! And maybe you loved a guy that was a lot like my brother, but-"

"I loved that Sam, and always will mourn for him. But I love this Sam and will for all time."

"Which is apparently ten years till the planet careens into the sun."

Jess sighed. They had covered this a half hour ago, and every time it came up, Castiel's memory was weaker than before. She had taken a pen and written everything she heard him say, and there were things she had written which Castiel no longer remembered just minutes later. She thought she understood. As reality veered off course from the one Castiel had experienced, that reality ceased to exist. Important events were disappearing from Castiel's mind, as they became impossible in this reality.

"I-I don't know," Castiel murmured. He glanced at Jess helplessly.

She sat beside him and took his hand while the brothers began arguing about nothing and everything again. "Cas? It's all right. Okay? I know it disturbs you to forget."

Castiel was staring at Sam with a calm fear in his eyes. "I don't want to forget him, Jess. He was amazing. He...he was so courageous and selfless and..." He smiled softly as tears sprang to his eyes. "Jess, he was so generous. I know I exasperated Dean, near constantly, and him me. But Sam was so patient, so good to me, often when I deserved nothing of the sort. I don't...I don't quite remember what I did that was so heinous, but-but I remember that Sam called to me anyway. For what it's worth, he said. For what it was worth. It was worth everything. Its value, his friendship and faith, was incalculable. I flew to Hell for that man, fought the Horde and ripped him from Lucifer's own cage." The blue eyes were filled with tears now. "At least...I feel like I did. Jess, I don't...I don't want to forget that man that Sam could have been. He wasn't as happy as this one will be. But he was strong, and good, and he called out to broken little angels who corrupted themselves with good intentions. And Jess...What if it isn't just my memory? What if I've changed this timeline so completely that I have written myself right out of it?"

Jessica grabbed his hand and frowned. Her heart began pounding. "Cas? Can that...can that happen?"

"I don't...know."

"What do we do?"

Castiel licked his lips and shrugged. "There's only one thing I can think of."

"And what is that?"

He smiled, but fear was written all over his eyes. "Pray."


	17. Always

In a lifetime of strange events, this may have been the very strangest. Castiel smiled at Jessica. "Thank you," he murmured. "For everything. If this doesn't work...please take care of Sam. The two of you, and Dean, you're everything to me. Go now. You cannot withstand his voice as I can. Have the brothers tell you, from the beginning, their story. You need to know it all."

She gripped his hand, and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "We've loved you, Cas. Please try everything you can to stay with us. You've felt right from the moment we each met you. Please. Do whatever you can."

He touched her cheek lightly, and sent her back to her place beside Sam with the last of his grace. Then he took a breath and looked up to see what she couldn't.

The Enochian felt nostalgic, but it was appropriate. "You are Castiel," the creature said softly. "But you are Castiel from so far away that your place of origin no longer exists."

He smiled sadly. "We protected it as long as we could. The Darkness came and swallowed it."

The other nodded slowly. "The Darkness is a fantasy."

"The Darkness is trapped within the Mark of Cain. Break it, and She is freed."

The creature hummed with interest. "That human. She has an emotional attachment to you. And...you to her?"

"I love her," he said simply, knowing this would never make sense to his companion.

"She prayed to me."

"I didn't think you would hear me."

"Castiel, you know I must return to my garrison. With Anael gone..."

He closed his eyes, and felt the same pain he could hear in the other voice. "Yes. I wish Anna peace wherever she is."

"As do I," the other whispered, as if afraid someone might hear.

Castiel sighed. "I need you to read my mind and know what I know, as surely as I know what you know, Castiel."

The angel was curious, but hesitant. "If you've come from future times, you must know a great deal..."

"Castiel," he said firmly, "it is imperative that you know what I know, and you must do this quickly. Every minute which slips by takes more memories from me."

There was just another beat of hesitation, then the capsule of light and energy embraced him, shared space in his vessel, and joined together in the scramble of thoughts and memories. The Castiel of many years forward closed his eyes and sighed as the younger Castiel sifted coldly and methodically through the most intimate moments of his existence. Then the angel stood back and watched him for a long moment.

"They love you," he said quietly.

Castiel broke into a weary smile. Of course it was what he prioritized. "Yes, Cas. We learn to be loved, and to love. It isn't just for our Father. It's for His creatures too. And it's for us."

The older could feel the flinch even in this younger form. "How can you know?"

"God has given us chance after chance, and I can't believe He would if He disapproved. Duty to the Host, and love and obedience to the Lord and His firstborns...Castiel, that isn't all there is. You see that now. In my mind. You feel it."

"You ask too much of me."

"I am you."

Fear radiated from the angel in waves. The shudder of feathers was painful to watch. "Things are different now. You stopped the momentum of the Apocalypse. I can reveal Zachariah and Uriel and the others! I can...I can find Joshua and..."

"And you will still fall, Castiel. You will always fall. So fall with me and do so on your own terms. You know what they will do to you. You've seen that in my head too."

"No. I can change-"

He sighed and raised his voice. "Castiel. I have seen it. I have been you! And I tell you this is our Father's will. You will fall. It may take centuries more, millennia, perhaps, but you will fall, and without the Winchesters, you will perish unloved and alone. Choose now to walk away before you are thrown away." He was being vicious now, and he knew it. But this was not someone else. This was Castiel himself, and he had to make him understand what the Winchesters and Jessica Moore meant to him.

The younger angel shivered in fear. "Castiel, don't ask me to leave the Host. Even knowing what I know now...There must be another way."

He shook his head, and softened his voice. He spoke now in English, since Enochian was insufficient for his purposes. "Castiel, listen to me. You are honorable. You are devoted. And yet you know there is something missing for you. I know how you ache for connection, in spite of your contact with the Host."

There was a flush of shame now.

"No. Castiel, no. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You will learn that one day. You love humanity. Is it so hard to believe that you could also learn to love and be loved by humans? Each one a work of art, created by the spark set in motion by our Father. And three of these works of art belong to you. Dean Winchester, the hunter who will never become the Righteous Man, he is your true brother in spirit if not grace. You will come to love him better than any angel, and you will fight and die for him. He will make you laugh, and he will tear out your heart, and then he will let you know with a look or a touch that he is proud of you, and it will mean everything. You will seek his approval and wisdom as you would have never sought Michael's, and you will exasperate one another with great fondness."

The ache was there, the longing.

"And little Jessica, a warrior in her own right, an incredible soul like nothing you've ever known. She loves so fiercely, and she helps so kindly. I've touched her mind, Castiel, and there is nothing there but love and dedication to a mission of her own design, to help those creatures that suffer. If I could make her the queen of Heaven, second only to the Lord himself, I would in a heartbeat." He chuckled at the horror wafting from the entity before him. "Blasphemy is relative, Castiel. You'll learn that too. I would put Jessica in charge in Heaven, and place Hannah as her lieutenant."

"Hannah!" Castiel said with surprise. "I know of her, but have never-"

"She is one of the good ones. And...and perhaps this time it will not be such a complicated relationship, should you ever meet. Certainly, the way we parted could have gone...better. Balthazar as well."

"Balthazar is dead."

Castiel smiled. "Not as much as you might think. In any case, Jessica would make the most rational, efficient, kind and generous administrator of Heaven."

The younger angel hummed again thoughtfully.

"And Sam. Sam is beyond explanation. You touched my mind and learned the facts of my life, Castiel. Now I ask you to do something I know you have never done before. Touch my heart. You know what I know. Now you must feel what I feel. Will you do that?"

The fear was a sharp, metallic smell now, and Castiel felt some sympathy for his counterpart. But the grace extended forward, and wrapped itself into him again, and this time, he felt a flush of emotion erupting, spiraling within them both. Tears poured down his cheeks, and just as he was about to cry out in pain, the other backed away.

There was silence.

At last, the voice spoke again. "I understand now," it whispered. "And yes. Of course I will help you. But not in the way you ask."

Castiel looked up sharply.

"I will not fall, Castiel. If I do, they will seek me out, as they seek Anael. And if you are to live peacefully with your loved ones, you cannot do so while being hunted."

"Then what...?"

"I won't fall," he said again firmly, "but now I understand why you did. I won't fall, but I will give you what you need to live in this time, to bring happiness to these people and...and perhaps to experience it for yourself."

Realization crossed his mind, and he shook his head. "No. Castiel, no, I simply need some help, not-"

"I'm not you. But you were me. You know this is the only way I will help you."

He was quiet.

"Then take my grace and my life as yours, and live and love as you see fit. It will give you what you need to exist in this time, to begin again, at your full strength. You will be able to protect your charges, and yet remain invisible to the Host as you are now."

The tears continued to slip down his cheeks. "Thank you."

"Love them well. And when they die, share their Heavens. But promise me that if ever our brothers and sisters need you, and if the cause is just, you will fight for them too."

"Always," he breathed.

"Love them well," he said again, and this time when the angel joined him in the vessel, it was with its full self. It was a surprisingly easy thing to absorb the life and grace of a willing angel.

And then there was just one Castiel.

***

There were three stops on the way back to Sam and Jessica's side.

The first was to a time a few years into the future, in a park, where an exhausted young mother sat with a crying infant. He smiled down and touched the child's forehead. "The doctors missed something. But she will be fine now."

Then he hurried on to a street where a blind man sat in darkness. "See," he whispered. This took far more of his strength, as this was a difficult miracle. But the man began to smile and thank the Lord, and Castiel swept away again without speaking another word.

Finally, he stood next to an old man who sat watching cartoons in a room alone. He lowered his hand to the man's forehead gently. "Rest, Mr. Jones," he murmured. The relief on the man's face was immediate, and Castiel could hear the beginning chords of peace in his mind. Castiel turned off the cartoons, and flew home.

The exertion had been nothing for this revitalized grace. It was exhilarating to feel so young and strong again. He had forgotten what it was like to have grace which was not stolen, corrupted, failing or damaged. It was beautiful.

And with this new strength, he would love them well. All of them. He would laugh and fight alongside his brother Dean, and he would learn and love alongside his sweet Sam, and he would help and heal alongside his lovely Jessica. It was where he belonged, where at last he had, not too much heart, but exactly the right amount.


End file.
